HalfLife 2: Opposing Force
by Metroid13
Summary: Updated after a long hiatus. Quality of writing improved dramatically, enjoy.
1. Cargo Ship

Half-Life 2: Opposing Force.

Chapter One: Boarding Party.

Adrian Shepard slowly awoke to darkness. If this was all a dream, he would be waking up to Sargeant Barnes morning drill. Fat chance on that happening. He had seen too much for anything to be a dream now. He had _lived_ through a dream. Fantastic monster's of all shapes and sizes, Black Op's carrying in a nuke to silence Black Mesa once and for all. He had lived through something he was not trained effectivly enough to live through. And.......for what? Only to be lectured on "discretion" by that damn civie. And then he was put into some sort coma by the man in question.

Something in Adrian's mind clicked when he thought of the word "coma". Why was he thinking all of a sudden? Did the same thing happen to everyone in a coma?

Adrian's long chain of thought's were cut short by a long slithering voice rising from the darkness. The voice that belonged to the G-Man.

"Wake up Corporal Shepard.......Wake up....." he hissed. "It's been quite awhile since we last met, I do apologize for the necesity you for all this time, but I assure you now that it's worked out for the best. As of late, I have received several intresting offers for your services."

_Offers?_, Adrian thought._Services?_ _Who the hell is this guy anyway?_

The G-Man appeared before his eyes, he adjusted his tie.

_"_I sincerely hope that everything makes sense to you in due time, but I am on a rather tight schedule right now, so unfourtantly this meeting will be short. I will see you.....very soon."

Adrian tried to speak, but no words would leave his mouth. The G-Man seemed to be disapearing now. Once again, he was all alone in the darkness.

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Captain Stuart looked out from the control deck of the cargo ship, _The Huey_, and into the blackness of Atlantic Ocean. Or what was left of it. When the Combine had invaded, they had litterally dried up half of the worlds water supply. The Atlantic, and Indian oceans were now the only two major bodies of water left on the planet. They were now in litereal terms, giant lakes. But even they had been delivered heavy blow's in terms of water loss. Stuart expected the Indian to dry up in another 7 years.

_The Huey_ was an lllegal cargo vessel, since the Combine had outlawed water travel back in 2004. Now the only things that sailed the (once) ocean blue were amphibious Strider's. _The Huey_'s purpose was to deliver much needed supplies to the European resistance, lead by Eli Vance. Eli was one of the only great scientific mind's left of Earth. The Combine had exterminated those they had deemed "too intelligent". Stuart found it fitting that Eli was now leading an underground rebellion. He's main base of operations was City 17, which Stuart frankly thought was suicide, as Dr. Breen's own base of operations was City 17 as well. He had meet Eli several times, and had brought up the topic every single one of those times. Eli had simply said that it was the last place the Combine would ever look.

There was an on-going resistance in America as well, where Stuart himself was from. The American resistance was far more open the European one, and as a result the Combine had concentrated a majority of it's forces there, leaving Europe open for attack from the inside. What did'nt make sense was that alot of the citizen's in Europe had adapted to Combine rule, leaving the resistance over there alot more lack luster then the one in America. But recently, a development had started. Vortigaunt's everywhere were rambling about "The Free Man's return", and "The Combines fall await's". He did'nt know what the hell they were talking about, but it sure got the European resistance excited.

Captain Stuart sighed, and went over to a nearby radar screen to see how far they were from City 15. Twenty more miles. He walked out of the deck, and saw distant lights. Coast line. Of course, they would be making port a good four miles away from the city, or the Combine would be on their case pretty damn fast.

A young crewmate rushed onto the deck and hailed him.

"Hey Captain, we found a boat drifting around nearby, there's a human on board." the young man said.

"Are you sure? It might be a trap, you know how clever those Strider's are." the captain warned.

"Well, we did a binocular check, and the guy's wearing an old uniform. He has some kind of protective vest on. I think we should bring him in."

"Very well.", Stuart sighed.

The crewmate saluted and left. What did Stuart care if they found some old guy out on sea? He was more concerned with getting out of the upcoming mess with his head on his body.

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Adrian Shepard woke up with a nasty headache. Everything was dark around him, but his stomach kept lurching up and down. It felt like he was on water. He groaned and reliezed his eyes were simply closed. He opened them, and saw that not only he was indeed on water, but a humongous cargo ship was heading straight for him.

"Oh shit." Adrian muttered. He looked around at his surronding's, and saw that he was on small paddle boat. He saw water in every direction. Was he out at sea? He dipped his hands in the water, and tasted it. Salty. He spit it out, and started to paddle. He went off in long strokes, but the ship was infinitely faster. It eventually was on his side. It lurched over towards him. He could feel the heat blast as it came for him, felt himself blacking out..............

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Adrian woke up once again.

_I might as well get used to waking up in a strange place due to strange circumstances...._ he silently joked to himself.

"There, he's coming to." a voice said.

Adrain coughed up some water. "Where the hell am I?"

Adrains vision focused, and he saw he was inside some sort of medical wing. There were two people around him.

"You're on _The Huey._ You blacked out when we started coming for you, don't know why. I'm Captain Stuart. Whats you're name son?" the man asked.

"Uhh....Adrian. Adrian Shepard. I think." Adrian said.

The captain gave him a strange look. Then he gestured to the nearby nurse.

The nurse checked some equipment, "He seems fine. A bit of a rush of blood pressure, but other then that he's ok. You're lucky to have that vest, where ever the hell you got it."

Adrian sat up on his bed. He was still wearing his fatuige pants, but other then that he was stripped. He looked over to the side of his bed. His PCV, fatuige vest, and even his Desert Eagle side arm were there.

Adrain looked up at the captain, "Where are we going?"

"We're heading to City 15 to drop off some supplies to the Euro resistance. Then we're going back home." the captain shruged.

"Where is home?" Adrian pressed.

"America. You sound like you're from there. Where are YOU from?" the nurse said.

"Er, same place. I'm U.S. Military." Adrian said.

This time the nurse **and** the captain gave him a funny look. "There IS no U.S anymore, son." the captain said.

A blow horn sounded after the captain said those words. After that it was followed by a loud voice.

"Strider's!"

The captain cursed loudly and ran out of the medical wing. The nurse went into a closet and produced a shotgun. She turned to run out of the room when Adrian stopped her.

"Wait! What's happening?!" he yelled after her.

The nurse turned.

"The Combine are attacking."

Authors Note: Well, first chapter, hope you enjoyed! Next one will follow shortly.


	2. Abandon Ship!

Half-Life 2:Opposing Force

Chapter Two: "Abandon Ship!"

Captain Stuart ran up two flight's of stair's, and ran into a service elevator. He pressed a nearby button, and the elevator started to travel above decks. He stared up nervously, sounds of battle above deck's grew more loud by the second. Why did everything have to go wrong now? They had gotten so close to City 15, but then the Combine had to screw it all up!

The elevator reached the control deck, and the captain ran off. He looked around, and saw that they were surronded by amphibious strider's. Amphibious strider's had water jets below their leg's, and thus could navigate on water, making them the only real navy the Combine required. The cargo ship lurched violently under the heavy assault. Several rockets suddenly flew out from the portside deck, and all of them collided with one of the giant's. The strider gave out what sounded like a cry of pain, then crashed into the water, it's jet's no longer supporting it. His RPG crew was among the best.

More rocket's flew out, and more strider's fell under the assault. It looked like they might actually win. Then, he heard several more noise's, and lights coming from the east. They sounded like gunship's and dropship's.

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Adrian Shepard lay in bed contemplating his current situation. The world obviously was'nt the one he remembered it as. That was for sure. But what exactly DID happen to the world? And who were the Combine? Adrian's head hurt even more then it did when he woke up earlier. And it certainly did'nt help that there was apparently a battle going on above deck. He could hear the steady droning of rail gun's, and rocket launcher's going off. There was a huge flash of light and sound, and Adrian suddenly fell into a deep sleep.

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Private Adrian Shepard woke up in his small bed, to the sound of Sargeant Barnes loud booming voice.

"Rise and shine ladies! Get your asses up!" he bellowed.

Adrian groaned, and rolled in his bed. It was his first day of boot camp, at the Arizona military base. His mother and father had died only two years ago, and he had no where else to go. With little money at hand, he had volunteered to join the military. He would have to get used to waking up at 4:00 in the morning. He closed his eye's for a second, and Barnes was suddenly in his face.

"Are you kidding me?! Get your sorry hole up! Now Private!" Barnes screamed.

Adrian bolted out of bed, and faced Barnes in the eye.

"I think some push up's will get those juices pumping. Drop and give me fifty. You will NOT leave that floor untill you have completed every last one!" Barnes said.

"Sir, yes sir!" Adrian said in the most grunt-like voice he could muster, then he dropped to the floor to complete the task.

He was'nt exactly the most atheletic person, so doing it was a pain. Barnes, satisfied, went over to the other privates and told them to run a few lap's around the base. Barnes went back to the other side of the room, when a man in civie's walked in. He was wearing a real up tight suit, complete with breifcase and all. Barnes saluted, and walked over to him. They began conversing, Adrian could barely hear them while he was doing his push up's, but he caught snipet's of the conversation. He heard thing's about "advanced training" and "two month deadline". He had no idea what the hell he was talking about. Then, Barnes left the room, and the guy started staring at him. Adrian stopped doing push up's, and looked at him.

"Er, sir?" Adrian whispered.

"I would look out right now if I were you, Corporal Shepard." the man hissed.

"Corporal? What?" Adrian babbled.

"Wake up." the man said.

Adrian woke up on _The Huey_ as he heard foot step's.

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Unit 1104-57 of Combine Overwatch sqaud Delta went down a few flight's of stairs after getting off from his dropship. Since then, he had exterminated two rebel's, and had promptly added two engraving's onto his standard issue pulse rifle. That made twenty-five kill's in all since he had began active duty. His superior's had rewarded him well, but thing's like rank's and medal's did not matter to him. Each kill was a reward in itself.

He belonged to Delta Squad now, one of the Combine's finest elite unit's in the human sector. Of course, he himself had once been human, but he belonged to something far greater then any un-sophisticated human mind could ever imagine. He sighed in pleasure to himself. The Combine had given him a life beyond his wildest dreams.

The soldier peeked around a corner. Nothing in sight. He kept his gun pointed forward and advanced a few feet. Nothing, not even a few spent bullet case's. It looked like the fighting had'nt touched this area. As if to remind him, the ship shuddered from a continued barrage of Aqua Strider energy gun's. He ran forward, now confident that he would'nt be hailed.

He was charged with finding whatever it was that was so important on this ship. Combine intel suggested that some kind of hardware was on this ship, one's that were vital to the European resistance. Though he had his mission, he could afford to have a little fun on the side, right? He smiled through his mask. This would be a successful day for him. Never before had the human's blundered like this, and now they would pay.

Movement. He crouched instantly, and backed up into the nearest wall. Steady runnning foot step's. He peaked around the corner, and saw a female human in a resistance outfit, she carried a red emblem on her vest. She suddenly saw him, and seemed flabergasted for a moment. Perfect. He took advantage of her mistake, and raised his pulse rifle. She began to unsling her shotgun, but to no avail. He left the trigger fly, and several plasma shell's entered her breast. She collapsed, bleeding profusly.

The soldier silently laughed to himself. His enhanced combat uniform made his movement's so much more superior to those of a human. He got out his carving knife, and added a tick to his pulse rifle. He felt the same ecstasy he felt whenever he made a kill. He let the feeling in, and enjoyed it.

He walked over to the body, and examined the the now dead human. She appeared to be a medic, according to the red cross on her vest. That meant he was no where close to the ship's damn storage area! He silently cursed, and turned around to leave when he heard rustling coming from where the medic had ran out.

He smiled again to himself. He could find the hardware later. The temptation was too strong for him to resist. He turned and ran down the hall.

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Adrian finished putting on his fatuige's and PCV, and holstered his Desert Eagle. He had to get the hell out of here. He had to find out to find out where he was. And better yet..._when_. He had no doubt that the world had changed dramaticly in his....absence, but to what extent he had no idea.

Those foot step's were becoming more loud. Someone was approaching the medical wing. He felt a small sense of apprehension, and took it to heart. He hide behind a long medical file cabinet, and waited.

Someone stepped into the room. He darted out from his hiding spot stealthily to get a better look. What he saw confused him very much. A man in what looked like a military uniform was standing in the room, pulling out bed cover's and peeking underneath them. He wore a insect like gas mask. He was armed with a large rifle of some sort. Were these the "Combine" the nurse had spoken about?

The soldier looked over to where he was, and reacted instantly. The soldier brought his rifle to bear and the weapon fired in a flash of brilliant blue light.

Adrain dived behind the cabinet's again as the wall behind him was pullverized. He heard the soldier begin to advance.

"Can we, uh, talk about this?" Adrian joked nervously.

The soldier hesitated. Adrian held his breath. The soldier let out a booming metallic sounding laugh.

"Guess not." Adrian huffed.

"I do not do that very often.....human. I like you. If you surrender now, you may live....perhap's." the soldier said in a voice that sounded like coin's being put through a grinder.

"I'd rather stay where I am, thank you very much." Adrian spat at the soldier.

The soldier snarled and rushed at the cabinet, and kicked it. Adrian felt the metal smack into his head, causing his vision to blur. He rolled out and punched the soldier in the mask. The soldier staggered back, and Adrian wraped his arm's around his neck. The soldier struggled violently untill Adrian clutched his neck tightly.

"No, no!", the soldier suddenly cried, "Have mercy, please!"

Adrian ignored him, and sqeezed untill he felt the soldier go limp. Adrian sighed, and let the motionless form drop to the floor.

He turned around, and ran out of the room.

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The battle topside was not going well at all. Score's of Combine Soldier's were being ferried to the ship via dropship's, and the human number's were slowly dwindleing. Stuart clutched a small pistol as explosion's rocked the ship violently. The hardware was obviously not gonna make it, but the Euro Resistance would'nt survive without it! He had to hope against hope that the Combine would be repelled somehow, that they could get to City 15 without much more trouble.

Several bullet's whizzed by his head, pulling him out of his thought's. Two Combine soldier's on the other side of the cat walk he was currently on. They made hand movement's to each other, and the one on the right crouched to fire. Stuart dived onto the floor as the soldier opened up. The soldier simply moved his sight's downward and fired as Stuart rolled. He often could'nt believe the agility he had, and at such an age-

A sudden hot pain in his left arm. He was hit, blood oozed from the wound. He wanted to cry out in pain, but he knew he had to conserve his energy on something more productive. He aimed his pistol at no where in particular and fired a few shot's. The soldier's ran back to some crate's for cover. Just the distraction he needed.

Stuart ran back into the main deck, now deserted from the fighting. The explosion's were becoming far more less frequent. Stuart could'nt help thinking that the worst had happened. He ran up to the ship's intercom and began to speak feverishly into it.

"If anyone else is alive out there: Abandon ship!" he cried.

He had just enough time to say this as the door to the main deck burst open. Stuart aimed his pistol at the head of the first soldier, and fired. The bullet shattered the insect like gas mask, and the soldier fell to the floor of the deck with a dull thud. The second soldier was quicker, and Stuart's life ended in a flurry of plasma.

Author's note: More Adrian action to come in the next chapter.


	3. Lower Levels

Half-Life 2: Opposing Force

Authors Note: I apologize for the HUGE wait, but, here it is..

Chapter 3: Lower Levels.

The soldier woke up inside the medical wing of _The Huey_ with a start. For a moment he could not remember anything about where he was, his surronding's, or his mission. For a blissful moment, he was floating around in his memorie's. He watched his old girlfriend and his human self cower at their apartment window as thousand's of Combine Soldier's martched down the street's during the Seven Hour's War. He watched himself assure the woman that everything would be alright. She was dead now.

The soldier was yanked back. He let out a pained shriek as he collapsed to the floor, massaging his neck. He remembered the unsufferable human that had very nearly sqeezed the life out of him. He was often haunted by painful memorie's of his past, though he doubted that they were actually real. His memorie's were with the Combine, and only the Combine.

The soldier's communication mic was crackling, a female voice demanded that he respond.

"Unit 1104-57 here, over?" he gasped.

"This is Overwatch Command. What is your current situation, over?"

"Incapacitation for an estimatted time of seven minute's, over."

"Roger. Is your weapon still with you, over?"

The soldier looked around, and saw his pulse rifle was no where to be found. That damn human!

"Negative. I'll have to improvise, over."

"Roger that, your mission parameter's have not changed. Continue to pursure the objective, over and out."

The soldier turned off his mic and got up, feeling a swift pain in his right leg. He limped over to the cabinet he had used in offense to the human, and started sift through the supplie's. Mostly medical issue, but there was a small PP9 pistol. He sighed and removed the small weapon from the cabinet. He looked out toward the hallway leading away from where he stood, and smiled to himself. It was a minor setback.

He would have his revenge.

Adrian could hardly believe the derelict state of the once teeming ship. Anything that was not bolted to the deck was strewn about, plasma shell's had torn through the ship's interrior and water was rapidly filling several deck's. It was obvious that the ship was not going to make it. But he still heard activity going on above deck's. The battle had just about ended, but there was something else that the Combine seemed to want.

He had passed score's of bodie's, and very little of the dark suited Combine solider's.He wondered if he was the only one left.

"If anyone else is alive out there: Abandon ship!"

That sounded like the captain of the ship. Adrian doubted anyone else was alive to hear his message, beside's himself.

Adrain entered a hallway that was nearly submerged with water. There were two gas masked occupant's. Adrain dived under water as several plasma shell's tore through the air above him. He swam quickly toward the two soldier's as they franticly shot randomly at the thick water. Adrain grabed the closest soldier to him and draged him underneath. The second soldier turned and shot wildly at Adrain and his new hostage.

The soldier he held tightly jerked violently as the plasma shell's from the first soldier riped his flesh apart. Adrain released the dead soldier and kicked at the second one. The flabbergasted soldier fell into the water. Adrain aimed with his 50.AE and fired. The soldier's skull was skewered by the armor piercing round. Blood from both bodies rose slowly to the surface.

_These guy's got nothing on Black Op's._ Adrian thought with a near grin.

Adrian quickly relieved the ill fated soldier's of their ammunition, and attempted to fed them into the plasma rifle he already had, off of the soldier he had taken down earlier. He took the time to inspect the weapon now. It's ammnution type was unknown to him, and the alloy that the gun was composed of did'nt seem like any earth metal. He fished around for a trigger area, and found one. The hard way. He griped at a certain area, and several plasma shell's tore the ship metal around him. The trigger was touch sensitive...

_Who the hell ever thought of something like that?_ he thought as he searched for a potential safty. He found one shortly, a switch at the far end of the rifle. The ammunition was fed into the firing tube through a barrel like object that reminded him of a Colt Single Action Army barrel. It twisted easily, and shell's were stored in six compartment's. Nearly everything about the weapon was automated.The rifle he was carrying also had several carving's engraved into it. He frowned as he saw that it was a kill count, as indicated by the skull and crossbone's marking, and the many, many dash symbol's, numbering at least over ten.

The water around him suddenly surged, and traveld at least three inches upward.

_Time to leave._ he thought.

He made his way through the salty water, dashed up a set of stair's, and came out on another deck. From the gust's of wind that were coming out from an open door nearby, he guess that he was now on the upper deck's. He could hear wave's crashing against the sinking ship, but the Combine did'nt seem to be in a hurry to get off. If anything, they were still scouring the ship for survivor's, or something else.

He heard footstep's behind him, and he quickly turned around to meet his potential attacker. He was thoroughly surprised to see a bipedal alien, standing timidly behind him. It did'nt seem hostile, and it even seemd to make small facial gesture's with it's tusk like mouth. Memorie's quickly flooded Adrian's mind as he remembered that this alien was of the same kind of brown colored creature's that had attacked him at Black Mesa. But against his better judgment, he did'nt make any threatening moves toward the alien.

"This one remember's you...yes." the alien suddenly said, in almost perfect english. "This one remember's you from Black Mesa."

Adrian kept his face carefully neutral. "I killed every one of your kind that I ever saw." he said, quite trufully.

"Our Vortessance allow's us to share our thought's with all who open their mind's to the Vortessance." the alien said. Adrian had no idea what the hell the alien was talking about. "This one remember's all the dying thought's of those who fell before you. And the thought's of those who fell before the Free Man, and many other's. Alas...no matter. Such times were the time's of darkness." it said this last word with a hiss in it's voice.

Adrian noticed something about the alien. All the one's he had encountered had green ring's on their wrist's(if you could call them that.)and neck.

The alien allowed a smile to play across it's face, and it's three red eye's twinkled. "The time of the Nihilanth has gone, and this one no longer carries the tool's of to...total...totalitarism." it finished.

_I'll be damned, it's been learning english terminology...and it can read my mind..._ Adrian thought. "That's very nice and all, but these Combine people are gonna be coming any minute, we better go." he said, gesturing to the nearby door.

The alien held up a restraining arm at Adrian. "The Shephard will meet his death if he goes out there, for the Combine number's out yonder are staggering, and our best way of escape is in the lower level's, where a small submarine await's." it said, pointing it's third arm in the other direction.

"Why are you in such a hurry to take the long way out?" Adrian questioned.

The alien hesitated, and it slowly put it's arm into a pouch like opening at it's belly, and produced a small black box. Adrian recognized it as a low grade nuclear device. "This one carries this weapon for the Human Resistance...this one will fail in it's mission if it were to get into the hand's of the dreaded Combine."

Adrian's mind was buzzing with questions. _Human resistance? Mission?_ "Well...if you're sure that it's the safest route..."

"This one's route is not safe, but neccesary." it said as it put away the nuclear weapon. "This one cannot stop the Shephard if he want's to take the route it propose's, but the Shephard would do well to be prepared to face his doom."

With that, the alien turned around and waded back through the water where it had came. It took Adrian a split second to come to a decision. He raced down to catch up with the alien.

Authors Note: Next chapter will hopefully come soon.


	4. Sinking Feeling

Half-Life 2:Opposing Force.

Authors Note: At the time of writing this, the time and date are 11th of March...lets see what time it is upon finishing...Oh, I do not own the Half-Life series. But it would rock if I did. In this chapter we'll go slightly into the mind of the Combine soldier.

Chapter Four: Sinking Feeling.

The Combine soldier rubbed his neck as he searched for his assaliant. He had found no luck in finding superior weaponry to the pistol he had now, and he had very little doubt that his enemy already had an assortment of weapons ready to blast plasma into his chest...to kill him...then he would mutilate him, carve his blasphemous name into his flesh and-

_STOP! Think about the hardware. The hardware is your main priority. Hardwarehardwarehardwarehardwarehard-_

The Combine soldier slamed himself into the nearest bulkhead. Several times infact. This process gradually took his mind off of his...thoughts. His training constituted of corporal mortification if any disturbing thoughts/dream/fantasies etcetra, etcetra of the sort came snaking into his mind. He was grateful of course, for such things plauged him daily. He wondered vaguely if any of his companions were also troubled by such things. He sighed, gathered himself, and started to run through the corridors again. He busied himself by reloading the PP9 he had with him as fast as he could several times to amuse himself. He had the highest reload time record in the Delta Squad, so such mechanics were hardly any trouble for him to master. The different Squads in the military often used their free time to hold reload, firing, assembly and disassembly of weapons, and target range contests to keep troops amused. He often delighted in taking part in them, hoping to catch the eye of his superiors.

The transmitter on his belt suddenly started to beep wildly. Yanked out of his thoughts, the Combine soldier quickly inspected the device. The device was a small nuclear radiation tracker. It showed that he was within several dozen meters of the target.

_And of course I am convienanlty seperated by it in the form of several dozen iron walls._

He checked the direction, noting it as being toward the west. He looked around and opened a nearby hatch. He found himself inside a large cargo area. Most of it was full of water. He checked the radar signatures being transmitted to him via several surveilance sattelites in oribt. A good portion of the ship was underwater. He rechecked the tracking device, and dived underwater. With his advanced combat uniform on, he was an adept at any form of combat and any physical undertaking. He swam through the water faster than any normal human would be able to. He took a glimpse back into his human memories as he swam.

He remembered being the captain of his high school swim team. This was probably a false memory, but he enjoyed it anyway. He remembered outswiming anyone who ever dared to challenge him, his arms became a blur as he sped down the lanes. He smiled again through his mask. A mere shadow of what he was capable of doing now. He came up to a submerged hatch, and opened it into an area that was not yet flooded. He quickly went in and slamed the hatch shut to avoid anymore water coming through.

The soldiers tracking device was beeping furiously now.

_I am close._

_(Perspective Change)_

Jon Loc led Adrian through the submerged corridors of the rapidly sinking ship as fast as his strange legs would take him. Adrian had to smile at the Vortigaunts name. It was based of John Locke, an old philosopher from Europe in the 1700's. Jon was apparently into all the old "Freedoms of speech, life, and happiness" philosophies from the 18th century. He was surprised at how much the aliens had learned when the Combine came to power.

"This way, Shephard." Jon said. He led him through another hatch. As Adrian started to follow, a loud banging erupted from the far end of the hall, back where they had just came. Adrian motioned for the alien to stop, but he was already out of sight. Adrian quickly ran behind several boxes nearby, and waited. The banging grew more and more violent than the next, and after several seconds a portion of the ceilling gave way.

Five Combine soldiers fell into place. One of them wore a completely black combat suit, accompanied by a large green eye at its gas mask. It carried a large sniper rifle, and several grenade canisters on its belt. Adrian also spoted a silenced pistol of unknown type to him. He looked over to the hatch where Jon had gone through, and saw that the alien was waiting for him to come through. Adrian motioned toward the end of the hallway. The alien seemed to understand, but then it turned and continued on its way. Adrian swore to himself, and unholstered the Plasma Rifle he was carrying.

"Team Alpha, fan right. Delta, left. Your main priority is the hardware. I'll handle the marine." the black one said. The four other's turned, made pairs, and ran into different rooms. The black suited soldiers eye piece glowed as it searched the corridor for a moment. It focused on the door Jon had gone through. It was still open. It walked down the corridor, and inspected the door for a moment before steping over the threshold and going through.

_Shit, he's gonna find Jon..._Adrian thought as he readied himself to go after the black suited Combine. As if on cue, the lights in his corridor flickered, and went out. He heard something that sounded like lighting nearby. After several seconds, another sound similar to the first. A door at the far side of the corridor opened, revealing Jon Loc. The alien gestured for him to come forward. Adrian nodded, and started to run over when a black hand grasped his neck, and held him there.

_Shit, stupid stupid!_

"Give me the hardware, and maybe your friends death will be quicker than usual." The black suited Combine said.

"This one does not know of such a thing." Jon quickly answered.

Some humming from the black suit. After a moment, he snaped, "Your lying!" He tightened his grip on Adrians neck. Adrian croaked.

"What was that, human!" The black suit said. He loosened his grip a bit.

"F-...fuck you." Adrian snaped.

"I see then." The soldier kneed him in the back. Pain shot up Adrians spinal cord for a moment, but the soldiers death grip did'nt even allow him to scream.

The soldier got on his communication link. "Team Alpha, back to the insertion point...Team Alpha?"

Jon smiled, "Those ones are no more."

The black suited Combine snarled. "Team Delta, back to the insertion point."

"Yes, sir." a voice said.

Jon frowned. At the back end of the corridor a door opened. Adrian's eyes widened. It was the soldier from the medical office.

"YOU!" the soldier bellowed. The black suited Combine looked up at him. Adrian reacted quickly. He quickly steped on the black soldiers foot, causing the soldier to let out a yelp of pain, releasing his hold on Adrian. Adrain turned and kicked the black suit in the stomach. The soldier shruged it off and tackled Adrian, smashing his forehead into a nearby pipe. Blood clouded Adrians vision. He collapsed to the ground moaning in pain. Jon arced his arms back, let out a bolt of green electricity at the black suit. The soldier let out an other worldly scream as everything that was electronic in its suit became red hot. The soldiers head exploded within its mask, and the body fell to the ground, still jerking.

Jon quickly turned to meet the pissed off soldier from the medical office. It raised its arms to let out another bolt of electricity. The soldier skided to a halt and rolled to avoid the bolt. Adrian got up holding his head in his left hand, blood pouring through the spaces between his fingers. Jon ran towards him, and took cover behind the boxes. The Delta team finnaly arrived, and both soldiers let loose with their plasma rifles. The plasma shots tore through the boxes, but none struck Adrian or Jon. Adrian rose and fired two shots with his Desert Eagle. Two bullets sent a soldier sprawling to the deck in a flurry of blood. The second rolled to into cover with the soldier from the medical office. Adrian kept his gun trained on their cover. Sure enough, a soldier rose with his rifle toward them. Adrian quickly fired. The shot tore through the soldiers gas mask, flinging its body backwards.

"We must go, Shephard, water is about to flood this corridor."

Adrian nodded, and both of them ran down the corridor, and through the door they had intended to take in the first place. Several seconds later, water burst into the corridor. Only one more section remained before the entire ship was under water.

_(Perspective Change)_

Walter Bennett fidgeted to himself in the confines of the small submarine that lay in the secret cargo hanger of _The Huey_. Being stuck in the thing for at least thirty minutes with an arrogant pilot didn't exactly make one feel very comfortable.

"I told you, I told Cap'n Stuart, I told that hot broad from the medical wing, hell, I told that Vortigaunt who was carrying the nuke that this operation wasn't gonna work in any way!" Otis said, for the fourth time in the last two hours they had been confined to the small vehicle.

Walter sighed, and checked his watch. Not that it accurately told time anymore. His watch read 5:45 AM, when in reality the time was 7:37 AM. He often marveled at how accurately he was able to calculate time without the need of a watch. Of course, 5:45 would have been right ten years ago, but Earth no longer rotated on its axis, thus causing its orbit around the sun to prolong itself by several hours. The average day on Earth, provided no portal storms took place, was about 27 hours now. The early portal storms had been the worst, right after the Black Mesa incident. He never did bother to reset the watch. It served as a reminder of why the world was in its current state. It served as a reminder of his, and the others mission.

"..and of course you all just ignore poor old Otis. And you call him fat behind his back! I kill four marines and countless aliens back at BM' and THIS is the thanks I get?" By now he was just rambling. The only truth he had yelled about were his kills. No one escaped Black Mesa without putting a gun to their hands. Walter himself had taken the lives of two marines, and several vortigaunts.

"...but NOOO, no one ever listens to-"

"Shut up." Walter sighed.

"Yeah, yeah ok." Otis said, putting his hands back to the controls. "Maybe I already asked thiscan't remember off handbut: when are we getting the hell out of here!" he said.

"When Jon gets back with the device." Walter said, casting his gaze back outside. He noticed a signifigant difference in the tilt of the floor when he'd last looked out. "Which I hope is soon..."

"Some piece of info doc, he's DEAD. No one else on the upper decks survived." Otis said as he looked back outside. "C'mon doc, the Combine are gonna come through here at any moment! And besides, this ship is sinking faster than my first date."

"This part of the ship is already under the waves..."Walter said. Judging from the echoes emitting from the wall, he estimated that much of the ship was underneath the Atlantic now. "We'll give it another ten minutes."

"'Aww c'mon doc! Overwatch is gonna be in here-"

"You've already established that." Walter said. "If we leave without that device the European rebellion will never get off its feet!"

"Well we can't help that your damn Vortigaunt friend is probably lying in pool of his own yellow blood. I say we ship off now."

"Ten minutes and that's final!" With that, he changed the setting of his watch to "timer", and set it for ten minutes. It was the first time he had ever changed the settings in ten years.

_(Perspective Change)_

For a spilt second, the Combine soldier was left to himself in the long corridor. Alone with his infinite rage. He had not only failed at getting the hardware, but he had lost his chance at exacting revenge upon the blasphemous human! How could he have failed so miserably? He had always succeded in pleasing his superiors, always lived up toand exceededexpectations, he was the Delta Squads best to offer. One of the finest soldiers in the Trans-Human army, and he couldn't even retrieve a simple box.

He blamed it solely on _him. _In a short half hour that human had become the very bane of his existance. How could he have lost? Every confrontation he'd ever had with a human rewarded him with a fresh new kill, and now he had...lost? The feeling was so alien that he could not begin contemplating it. Unacceptable. Defeat was not in his vocabulary. He would get back up on his feet. He would run after those two rebels and he would kill them.

At that very moment, the wall behind him burst like a water mellon, sending gallon after gallon of water spilling into the corridor until the only thing the soldier was doing was swiming for his life.

Authors Note: Hmm...Should I make these chapters longer? If so, please tell me! Also, the reason I had to add all the perspective change things was because any attempts at making a line barrier failed for some reason.


	5. Debriefing

Half-Life 2: Opposing Force

Chapter Five: Debriefing

Authors Note: Yeah, so I haven't updated this in years. Well, my bigger story is finally done, which I guess puts me at liberty to update this one. Enjoy.

Adrian Shephard winced in pain once more as the Vortigaunt, "Jon Loc," continued to escort him through the ever-shaking steel corridor. _The Huey_ was shaking in earnest by now, jerking as a man would when shot dead. Adrian dully noted that the entire ship was probably submerged in water by now. How he and his alien "comrade" would make it off, he had no idea.

It was on that note that he decided he really didn't like being nurse-maided by some alien creature who had a slight obsession with 18th century philosophy. Hell, he hadn't even heard of John Locke until Jon --the alien-- told him, and from what century he was from.

"I can walk on my own, Jon," Adrian said, trying to gently push himself away from the aliens grasp.

"Nay, Shephard, this is faster," Jon said without even a glance. Adrian realized coolly that one of the Vortigaunt's eyes was probably fixed on him, so he wouldn't even have to turn his head to look. _Convenient_, Adrian thought. At any rate, Jon said, "The Shephard is wounded, at any rate, and must be tended to."

Adrian glared, "Hey, I'm-" The ship's bulkheads let out a shriek of metal tearing against metal, of iron collapsing against the full weight of the ocean. He could hear water rushing in from all directions around him, but the corridor they were in remained dry for now. He could also hear strange noises from outside, a peculiar hooting sound that was both organic and frightening in nature. And his forehead, still bleeding down to a trickle, flared in pain.

"Aaahh..." Adrian said.

Jon said, "The Aqua-Striders bestride over their kill like a group of headcrab hunters hooting and cajoling after a successful hunt."

Adrian Shephard had nothing to say about that. They continued forward, to another door...

* * *

Otis was getting more restless than ever. Walter Bennett stared in some bemusement at the overweight security-guard-turned-resistance-member as he pressed his full face against the front-window of the sub. The sub itself was a primitive thing; bulky, unwieldy, and had enough room for five men, and _that_ was cutting it close. Walter himself wasn't even fully trained in its operation. He'd received a cursory briefing in how to pilot and submerge it, but not much else. The damned American resistance fighters were notably short on details.

Otis turned back to Walter, "Doc, we really gotta go. Do you hear all this?"

The bulkheads of the ship continued to crash and fall into each other. Walter nodded in acknowledgement and checked his watch; five minutes left. He sighed.

Otis stared at Walter, his eyes bulging, "We need to leave, doc! Come on!"

Walter refused to say anything. He looked outside. Jon _had_ to get that device to the sub. The whole of the European resistance depended on it! This future operation could not be compromised in any way possible. Everything had to be spot on, clear as daylight. _Nothing_ could go wrong. The device had to get out.

And it did, Walter thought as he suddenly leapt up in his seat along with Otis. The door to the bathysphere chamber opened suddenly, and there stood Jon, the black box held securely between his claws. Walter felt himself clapping with glee as the Vortigaunt sprinted over to the submarine. However...

"Whoa, who's that with him?" Otis said, sudden suspicion in his voice.

Jon indeed had someone with him. He was a tall man with unkempt blonde hair and striking blue grey eyes. His face was angularly constructed. He was bleeding profusely from the forehead and wore...

"By god..." Walter said.

Otis' eyes had widened as well. The man was wearing an H.E.C.U. uniform, the same thing the exterminators from Black Mesa had worn. Seeing the vest brought back horrendous memories to Walter; their loud, echoing footsteps as they swept one of the rooms he had hid in, the sudden barks of M-16 assault rifles as they found cowering scientists...The pitched, free-for-all battles they had waged against Xenian soldiers and those strange monsters who came in later.

None of them said anything as Walter opened the hatch for Jon. The Vortigaunt slowly lowered the...man into the submarine. He had a cold look to his eyes, but his face was otherwise kept neutral. Those blue grey eyes fixed themselves on Otis. The man suddenly pointed at the former security guard.

"You're that...that..." the man began, but suddenly struggled for the words, for the memories. He moaned suddenly in pain, and closed his eyes. Walter looked at the man's forehead; he'd need stitches. With that thought he shook himself out of his previous surprise as Jon jumped into the sub. The alien turned to Walter and said, "This one thinks we should leave. Now."

Walter only nodded dully and moved past the two men and alien to get to the controls. He held his right hand to his forehead as he tried to remember the instructions on how to submerge the submarine. After a moment he remembered the tight-faced instructor, the woman who'd barked at him every time he'd made a mistake. She'd kept on emphasizing the importance of knowing how to use the sub if anything went wrong. He'd told her that he was a high-ranking resistance member and deserved her respect. She'd told him a nice place where he could put that respect, and how to get it there.

This was how Walter remembered how to submerge the submarine. He pulled down several levers and twisted a few dials. Water began to churn around the submarine, and slowly it lowered itself into the water. Darkness quickly obscured his view of _The Huey, _and of the surface. That didn't matter. He pushed forward with a lever, and the sub started to move forward, toward the coast.

* * *

1104-57 tapped his black-gloved fingers in never-ending rhythm against the side of his leg as he awaited his fate. He was sitting down in a steel-rimmed, darkish blue metal chair, surrounded by other Combine soldiers of various rank and suit-design. Some blue jump suited citizens also sat nearby, but at a much greater distance to the Combine soldiers. They all looked like scared rabbits. Likewise, several Civil Protection officers sat a distance from the Overwatch regulars.

The room they were all sitting in was the lobby of the City 15 Overwatch Garrison. Like the chair 1104-57 was sitting in, the room was devoid of feature, of all dark-metal oriented design. A pair of glass doors led outside into City 15 proper. Blue suited citizens gave the garrison entrance a wide berth as they went about their business.

1104-57 sighed within his mask, a noise that was imperceptible to everyone else in the room save the Universal Union network, which kept constant tabs on every soldier for subversive activity. 1104-57 had nothing to worry about in that respect, though he was surprised that the Union would ever consider the possibility that their loyal soldiers would _ever_ turn on them. It was blasphemous to turn on those who had given you so much.

He sighed. He sighed because he had failed his assignment and was awaiting his fate. His Benefactors would not forgive him. That was a fact made excessively clear to all Overwatch soldiers. Failure simply was not an option. The hardware had not been recovered, and he would pay for that. The nature of his payment, as always, was unclear to him, but he was certain it would not be pleasurable.

He glowered as he remembered going after that insufferable human. That man who had defeated him in both battle and in luck. He glowered further as the memory of him being swept out of the human vessel by a raging torrent of seawater greeted him once more. Once among the waves, he had sent up a spare flare from his supplies to alert the rest of his brethren. A dropship had picked him up. The elements had prevented him from exacting revenge and completing his assignment. And now he would never gain the opportunity ever again. He sighed.

The female voice of the Combine Overwatch began to speak over the intercom, her voice amplified by the speakers which were positioned liberally at ever corner of the room in pairs. The voice of the Overwatch was probably the most any soldier ever heard out of their Benefactors during the course of their lives. 1104-57 accepted it as gospel whenever he heard its cool efficiency intoning in his communication channel, over loudspeakers which an entire city could hear, in the masks of those pathetic Civil Protection officers.

"Union! Unit 1104-57, Overwatch, Delta, report to Room 101."

1104-57 rose as ordered and started to walk toward a steel door on the left side of the lobby. A similar door stood on the right side, but that wasn't his destination. He could feel the stares of his fellow soldiers on the back of his mask. Cool, efficient stares, calculating to themselves what he was going in for. He could also feel the fearful, unsure, gossiping stares of the Civil Protection officers and their citizen counterparts. And suddenly he was reminded, again, of high school, years earlier. The swim team. Class with men and women very much like him. He remembered how much emphasis he had placed upon appearances, his image, how he walked, talked. It had been so trivially important to him and his peers. So infantile. He smiled, letting himself bask in the memory and allowed himself to take pride in how much _better_ he had become since then.

He sneered at the thought of his lesser comrades fearfully staring at him as he moved past them. They analyzed his gait, his body language. They found nothing. He was above such things.

_Let them wonder,_ 1104-57 thought, in regards to them all. He pushed the steel door open and began to walk down the dimly lit, dark-colored corridor. More steel doors lined both sides of the hall, brightly lit signs above them, announcing to passerby's their room-designation. 1104-57 had no interest in any of them besides the room which he was destined to go.

He completed his walk down the corridor and, after a moment, turned to the left. A similar corridor to the one he'd just traveled through greeted him. Room 101 was the closest door to him on the right in this corridor. He stepped forward and placed his right hand on the latch.

There was a brief humming noise, and he felt a sort of tingling sensation in his gloved hand, which went on for a few seconds. Eventually the latch let out a slight "beep!" and clicked upward. The door swung open. 1104-57 stepped into the darkness of the room, which was devoid of anything noteworthy besides a single chair in the middle. It looked exactly like the one he'd sat on in the lobby. Above that chair was a single screen.

He sighed again. There was nothing he could do besides sit and accept what he had coming to him. So he sat.

As soon as he had positioned himself comfortably, the screen hanging from the ceiling descended a few meters until it was directly in front of him. The screen was blank and see-through, perfectly smooth. He could see his reflection quite clearly. All he saw were his armor-plated shoulders, his angular gas-mask, and his viewing ports, which glowed cyan. The screen remained blank.

The voice of the Overwatch suddenly began to speak very clearly, almost as if 1104-57 and "she" were in the exact same room together. 1104-57 could not see any place from where the voice could be emanating from.

"Take off your mask."

Without thought, 1104-57 obeyed. He brought both his arms up and positioned his hands at either side of the back of his mask, near the neck. Very carefully, he unscrewed identical knobs at these places until a hiss of air rushed out of his mask and into open air. 1104-57 cringed slightly as he tasted regular unfiltered air in his mouth. He slowly removed the mask from his face, the cyan glow from the viewing ports gone, and placed it near the chair, on the metal floor.

The screen suddenly brightened substantially until 1104-57 could see his face clearly in the reflection. He slowly realized that the screen wasn't simply reflective: it was acting as a mirror on purpose.

1104-57's face was chalk-white, as was typical of all benefited soldiers. He had no facial hair whatsoever, nor any on the top of his head. His eyes were of a dull, iron red color which showed no iris, as if it were just a solid film across his pupils. He had no eyebrows. His lips were of the same color as the rest of his skin, amazingly white. Along his cheeks were several surgical incision marks which were shaped semi-circularly.

1104-57 was silent, awaiting orders. He had to struggle to keep his facial expression perfectly neutral without his mask on. He assumed all Combine soldiers had the same problem when told to do things like this.

"Unit 1104-57, Sector 15 Combine Overwatch, Force Delta, confirm identity via retinal scan."

1104-57 began to stand, but a small black strip suddenly came down over the surface of the screen. A blinding red light flashed in his eyes for a moment. Then the black strip retracted. There was a pause.

"Unit 1104-57 identity confirmed." Then she was silent. 1104-57 wanted to blink, lick his lips, or look away from the screen, but he wouldn't allow it. Eventually another voice came. It was a male speaker, his voice audibly inhibited by long-range communications, unlike the voice of the Overwatch, which had such clarity. The voice clearly belonged to someone among the non-benefited. But that was fine with him; collaborators were just as loyal as any soldier.

"Unit 1104-57?"

"Yes," he said, his voice raspy and dry, as if out of a snakes maw.

"You were charged with recovering a low-grade nuclear device from the human resistance aboard _The Huey_, a vessel which was sunk less than twenty four hours ago in the English Channel. The hardware was _not_ obtained. Explain yourself."

The human speaking was calm and methodical about his information, betraying no emotion: just facts. 1104-57 said, "I could not recover the hardware due to efforts to inhibit my progress by a single anti-citizen. I was further inhibited by circumstances surrounding the vessel's gradual destruction."

"The hardware has escaped our forces. Its location is now unknown, but we know it was headed for City 15. You failed to complete the task assigned to you…"

"I acknowledge this fact and await judgment," 1104-57 said tonelessly. He wondered if the fear he was experiencing, the sudden jump of his heart-rate, could be detected by this human. Probably.

There was a pause, "We have audio-transcripts of you during the operation. Accordingly, you acted toward the anti-citizen you mentioned in a very brash and un-calculative way. You also pleaded to him for mercy when he subsequently overpowered you. Furthermore, periodic brain-wave scans have indicated that your thought process is irregular in comparison with other units, and has been for years.

1104-57 said nothing. Somehow he'd known about that last part. He'd always felt as if he were somehow…different. It was the dreams; the memories he had.

"The penalty for failure is off-world relocation and assignment, and possibly trans-dimensional penal work."

He still said nothing, awaiting the final verdict. He wished this man would quit procrastinating and simply tell him.

The man went on after a moment. "You have been cleared of incompetence in the field and are not subject to off-world assignment."

1104-57's eyes widened. His mouth fell open. No punishment! What were they planning to do with him, then?

"After some conference with Administrator Breen, it has been decided that you will be re-assigned to the espionage division of the Combine Overwatch."

Before 1104-57 could respond –if he was allowed to respond--, the screen in front of him suddenly showed a list of information ranging from gender, birth date, psychological information…it was a file. The name listed was "Lazar, Robert A."

It was 1104-57's file. Back when he had been chosen as one of the first humans to undergo trans-human augmentation. He remembered signing the papers to confirm his identity. He'd been so excited to join initially, back when the Combine had told everyone that they had arrived to help humanity join countless ranks of alien species to bask in the glory of the Universal Union.

"The only important piece of information on this file is the name, specifically the one you carried before benefiting. Memorize the name for the next few moments."

1104-57 committed the name to memory.

"Good," the screen now showed an image. It was of a human male, roughly 19 years of age. The human depicted had blue eyes and dirty-blonde hair, with a roundly shaped face. The male was grinning, showing white, though slightly yellowish with lack of hygienic care, teeth. 1104-57 stared at the face for a few moments before a new one appeared to replace it.

It was of the same human male, except he was aged ten years. The image was computer-rendered, unlike the previous one. The face was essentially the same except for the fact that it generally appeared to be older. The man depicted was not smiling.

"This human male is Robert Lazar, who was one of the first to join the Combine Overwatch after the liberation of Earth. His designation is 1104-57."

"Your mission parameters are thus: You will undergo extensive facial surgery so that you will resemble the latter image you see before you. You will also undergo biological augmentation so that you will retain your current Overwatch musculature benefits. You will be trained in how to act, think, and react to situations as a normal un-benefited human would. You will retain the name 'Robert Lazar' for the duration of your assignment."

"Your mission objective is to infiltrate the human resistance in City 15 and recover the hardware without arousing suspicion. Secondary objectives are to recover intelligence on resistance plans and operations. Are there any questions?"

1104-57 was silent for about a minute. He was already holding his hand over his forehead, his head tilted at an angle, and all of his previous self-control now forgotten. He said, "Yes. Why have I been chosen? I am an effective combat trooper, not a saboteur, meaning no disrespect to the Union and all of its glory."

The response was prompt; there was also no rebuff for his comment, just an explanation "Brain scans indicate that you are the most probable choice for this assignment, given your consistent retaining of memories from your previous life. Your behavior is also highly irregular in comparison to most Overwatch soldiers. In short, you're the most likely to fit in. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes."

"Good. You will report tomorrow to this building for facial reconstruction and biological augmentation. Union!"

The screen went blank again, plunging the room into darkness once more. Then the screen soundlessly went back up to its previous position above the chair. 1104-57 sighed quite audibly, and bent down to pick up his mask.

After having put the mask back on, he took a large whiff of fine, purified air. Then he got up and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.


End file.
